The Man She Couldn't Refuse

Becca Wolfe is on a mission to put herself first for onceand that means no men. Working as a promo girl on a Greek Island, she's dressed to thrill, carrying a pistol full of caffeine-laced soda (did she mention the secret libido-boosting ingredient?) and ready for the holiday of a lifetimewith no distractions!

But Levi Evertonblast from the past and top of Becca's Most Wanted listis distraction personified. A lot has changed in ten years, but Levi is tempting as ever. And he's about to show Becca that life is much more exciting when you give in to temptation !

Chapter Three

Levi Everton had always been far too flash for her. And now, towering over her, looking at herlike that?

Thanks to Victoria so kindly sharing her "Secrets", Becca currently had the cleavage of a porn queen. But she'd worn her bikini bottoms under the pleated skirt, so she had more fabric covering her than every other person on the beach, aside from him. Yet he made her feel like she was naked. More than that, it was as if he saw right through her. The intensity of his gaze had always gotten to herhe made her feel so damn aware. He emanated sensuality, the embodiment of wicked promise. Her throat dried, her brain fried and her body was on meltdown.

Levi Everton had always been Becca's Most Wanted.

"Where's Tess?" he suddenly asked. "She working the other end of the beach?"

"She's not here." Becca mumbled briefly.

"No?"

Yeah, no wonder he looked surprised. She and Tess had been glued together since they were six years old.

"She's back in Sydney," she explained. "Working in an ad agency, engaged to be married to some superstar banking genius. Hedge funds or something."

"Because we're friends." But Becca didn't like his commentbecause it was true. That was what she was here to change.

"The terrible twosome," he added. "Making every guy's life hell."

"Not true."

It was because of Tess that Becca had said no to Levi. "Mates before Dates" was the rule she'd obeyed. Part of her had always wondered what she'd missed and now old images flooded her mindthe way he'd stood so close to her that night. Just as he was now.

Close enough to kiss.

Suddenly the summer sun was stifling.

Unnerved, overheated, she pulled a vial of the soda from her belt. She didn't much like the stuff, but this was an emergency. She felt in danger of suffering heatstroke. She popped the lid and knocked back the full thirty mls in one mouthful, her eyes on him the whole time.

"Well, seeing you're offering" he murmured.

Before she could blink he grasped her chin and bent his head. His lips touched hers ever so lightly. She froze as electricity arced from him to her. So gently, so seductively with the one stroke, he licked the last drops from her lips.

There was no way Becca couldn't let him in and with a soft gasp her lips parted and she lifted her chin higher. She felt the slide of his tongue against hers. This wasn't a frantic, rushed kiss. He was unhurried, thorough, devastating. She closed her eyes against the harsh blue sky and dazzling sun. Swamped in sensationheat and salt. It was the stickiness of the soda making her lips cling so hungrily to his, right?

No. It was the kiss she'd fantasized about for so long, that in reality was so much better than she'd dreamed. She rose onto tiptoe as she sensed him pulling back. Stayed there, seeking more as he leaned closer to deepening the kiss again. Her fingers tightened on the bottle, passion ignited. She wanted more than this. She always had.

Slowly, he drew back and subjected her to one of his way too intense, smoldering looks. "So, Easy, are you just starting or about to finish up?"